


Topsy Turvy

by FailedExperiment



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bodyswap, Confusion, Established Sam Winchester/Reader, F/M, Fluff, Gabe's just there for shits and giggles, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mild Language, Platonic Dean Winchester/Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21718249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FailedExperiment/pseuds/FailedExperiment
Summary: A chilly Autumn morning, a quiet bunker. No angels, no gods, only warm blankets and soft pillows...Well, that's what everyone wanted but when you're the Winchesters peacefulness never lasts, fate even starts messing around with your girlfriend!!
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Topsy Turvy

Sam woke to the cold space beside him in the usually warm and sung double bed, the one purchased soon after the six month-iversary of his relationship with (Y/N). It was just then that the heard the terrified scream of his girlfriend, he jumped out of from under the covers and called out for (Y/N). He didn’t notice anything much different until looking down to the old brass handle of the bathroom door and noticed how minuscule, fragile and delicate his hands had become like those of a pianist or temple dancer, from that point everything had become so much clearer, the additional weight on his torso, how his voice had changed to be slightly higher in pitch.

Upon hearing of slight wheezing and heavy breathing from the other side of the door, Sam… or not Sam… was snapped back into reality and gently pushed the door open, the creak of un-oiled door hinges caught the attention of the tall, shaggy haired man currently sat on the toilet seat, teary panicked hazel eyes meeting confused (E/C). Sam’s eyes clashed with this other Sam’s own orbs.

“Sam…?” His own voiced asked out hesitantly. “What’s happened to us? Why the hell are you me?”

Turning to the mirror hanging above the white porcelain sink, Sam’s eyes widened beyond reasonable proportions as he was met by face of his girlfriend staring right back at him.

~~

As the day continued, Sam and (Y/N) were on continuous and seemingly never-ending journeys of “self”-discovery. Both found seemingly normal, even tedious tasks, absolutely impossible and when it came to restrooms both had needed a decent amount of assistance.

Dean, however, who had been away for the night doing things that to many would seem rather impolite to mention in everyday conversation, was guilty of not only being an utterly useless moron but also extraordinarily amused by the predicament (Y/N) and Sam were currently struggling with greatly.

“How the fuck, Sammy,” He paused to swallow the bite of the sandwich in his mouth,“Did you manage to get yourself into this kinda mess?”

“Honestly, Dean. I have no idea.” (Y/N)’s voice replied but from the creased eyebrows and stress clouding the (e/c) eyes, anyone that knew the group well enough could tell these were behaviours typical of the younger Winchester.

All three bodies slide down against the back of the heavy mahogany chairs that sat around the worn wooden table in the kitchen of the bunker, now that the laugh was over Dean had become concerned for the well-being and future of the pair. He just wanted his family back to normal, or as close as Winchesters could get.

After several hours of prodding and poking their way through the bunker’s masses of books and scrolls, did Dean and (Y/N) heave huge exasperated sighs. “Have you definitely checked the archives?” (Y/N) started, “Cause I swear to all things un-fucking-holy,” it was at this point that she raised a large hand with finger jutted out to jab right at Dean, “Sam won’t be able to use tampons!!”

This outburst made Dean’s eyes crinkle as he let out a deep roaring laugh, “Sweetheart, I’m sure he’ll be fine! And besides, isn’t there like other kinds… of… um… lady products?”

(Y/N) began laughing coming to the realisation of how absolutely ridiculous their conversation was, “I guess you’re right, but let’s just hope that we get

to the bottom of whatever all this is,” she waves a hand in the area above her head, “within the next two days.”

Just then, the door at the back of the library swings open with an urgency nearly unmatched by anything human. In strides Sam, his stance in his tiny new body almost laughable, (Y/N) and Dean turn in their seats to face him. “Well, while you were having a wonderful time laughing at our misfortune, I decided to do a bit of looking myself.”

This caused Dean’s eyes to brighten and his ears to pick up. “And?”

Sam paused and gave Dean the bitch look of bitch looks, “And,” he paused, “I found this in our bedroom.” From the pocket of his jeans he pulled a small bag, worn down baby blue and filled.

“Is that?”

“Yep. And get this,” he undoes the shaggy ancient string, allowing the blue cloth to unfurl and reveal the contents of the hex bag. “At first I thought it was just an ordinary hex bag,” both (Y/N) and Dean nodded, “but then I looked deeper into it, and the pattern sewn into the bottom is the same as one Dad found on a bag while on a hunt in Ohio back in ninety-seven!”

“Damn Sammy, you’ve still got it, huh?” Dean claps Sam on the back of his back, with force that he normally could have withstood but in his new body he was left with a sore back.

“So,” he continued, “we’ve just gotta find her again, kill her and then we get back to normal!”

~~

The drive from the bunker to the town stated in John’s journal was nearing unbearable for (Y/N) as she had taken her normal space in the back seat, but the giant legs of her new body were almost constantly crushed as she struggled in vain to become even the slightest bit more comfortable. By the time they made it to the half way house for the night all were tired having left rather late in the afternoon, their refuge was a cheap but surprisingly clean motel room with two queen beds and with only 6 hours or so until they reached the small town of Westerville just south of Lakewood, the party were relaxed enough to sleep.

Well one of them, anyways.

Dean got a bed to himself while Sam and (Y/N) shared the other, outdated orange and absolutely grotesque shades of green littered the quilt under which the pair held onto each other tightly. No words were needed to show the other how anxious both of them were, (Y/N) spooned by her own small frame and Sam trying to cover as much of his original form as his new one would physically allow.

It wasn’t until much later that (Y/N) had fallen asleep, but Sam was left worried and frankly rather panicked.The black digital alarm clock that sat upon the table beside him read 04:53 AM in vibrant, almost bloody red, and (Y/N)’s breathing had steadied into a constant pattern of deep contented sleep, only then was able to relax himself enough to shut his eyes to the darkness and their situation and fall into a much needed and dreamless slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> This was taken from my Tumblr, @lonely-impala if any of y'all want?


End file.
